Free Fraser 03 - Highland Homecoming by B. J. Scott Page A

blood.
    “Forgive me.” He forced the words out on a strangled breath. He swept an errant wisp of hair from her brow and locked his gaze with the wide, hazel eyes of a woman obviously shocked by his impulsive actions.
    He cupped her chin, stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, then brushed it across her lips. “I dinna mean tae make inappropriate advances or tae take liberties. I—”
    She pressed two fingers to his mouth, silencing him. “You have no reason tae apologize. I appreciate you staying with me, Alasdair. After my nightmare, I canna bear tae sleep alone.”
    This was the first time she’d used his name, and it sounded as melodic as the Celtic lullabies his mother used to sing. At a loss for words, he stared back at her and smiled, but inside, his stomach churned in turmoil.
    What to do?
    He’d rather be drawn and quartered than remain on the pallet with her lush, shapely body pressed against his side, and not sate his carnal needs.
    She’d begged him to stay, so why shouldn’t he take her? But she also trusted him enough to seek safety in his arms. He could not betray that trust.
    In the past, paying women to warm his bed had served him well. There was never any worry about commitments or the fear of being turned away, but the acts lacked passion and were devoid of sentiment. Lauren was different from the tavern wenches he’d bedded. Not only was she stunning, she was intelligent, tenacious, and brave. All qualities he admired.
    Bombarded with an array of emotions he’d never felt before, he wanted to bed her, to take his time and explore every curve of her figure, to memorize the delicate details of her beautiful face, and to bring her to the heights of ecstasy over and over. He wanted to pump into her with wild abandon until she shouted out his name in pleasure, and he joined her in release. Yet, if he gave into temptation, he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk away.
    While he might be war weary and longing for peace, he’d not forsake his duty. Nor would he let desire cloud his judgement.
    He believed the Almighty had spared his life when he was a babe for a reason. He’d defied the odds of survival at birth, overcame illness as a bairn, and had grown to a strong, healthy man. His destiny was to fight for the Scottish cause. He’d seen his share of horror over the last few years, countless battles, destruction, and senseless loss of life. To hang up his sword and targe, to settle down in a croft by the sea, and become a fisherman was a tempting thought. But he’d sworn his fealty to the Scottish King and vowed to avenge the deaths of his kin.
    The Almighty was testing his resolve, of that he was certain. Why else would the Lord place her in his care? He didn’t trust women and had vowed never to marry. But he’d also never spent so many days and hours in such close proximity with a lass. He’d gone out of his way to avoid contact with women. Especially ones as beguiling as Lauren. That way, he could not be rejected or disappointed.
    In a moment of weakness, he’d stolen a kiss, but vowed that was as far as he’d allow his desires to go. Frightened and vulnerable, she’d invited him to share her pallet. But she did so seeking comfort, not because she wanted him to bed her. He’d not take advantage of that fact.
    For a sennight, he’d fought the undeniable and rapidly growing attraction to the feisty lass. Lauren was everything a man could want in a woman and more, but she was not for him and never would be. Besides, he didn’t know anything about her past and his own future was questionable at best. Even if he learned for certain she was not already married and she’d have him, he’d not take her maidenhead if they were not wed.
    While some men had no issue with ruining a lass in order to satisfy their own selfish pleasure, he had no intention of taking her innocence, or of fathering a bairn he’d not be there to raise. Once he’d seen her to Sinclair Castle, he’d leave her in